


Hey There, Artie

by Decada



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Plain White T's
Genre: College, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Guitars, Hurt/Comfort, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Romance, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 12:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2468264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decada/pseuds/Decada
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a really bad month for Artie, and the only one who can comfort him is Alfred.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey There, Artie

**Author's Note:**

> Ha, listening to old songs does things to your heart.

The baby blue duvet was thick and soft, its warmth inviting and protective like the arms of a mother. This was the thing Arthur needed right now; wrapped up to his neck in this cloud-covered duvet, Arthur sat on his bed with his legs crossed. Outside his window, the gray clouds splattered heavy drops of water in a nonrhythmic drum of plip plip plip on the glass. 

Boy, a weather that perfectly matches my mood, Arthur thought sardonically. With all of his new books read and the tea now cold, Arthur had nothing to do but think and sulk in his bad- well, worried- mood. Last week, he found out that he barely passed with a D plus, but that still put his semester average in the red where no amount of perfectly-polished essays can get him out of; his scholarship application didn't go through and whoever was supposed to handle his application didn't tell him until the very last minute, so now he has an eleven hundred dollar bill to pay off; because his work-study was tied to his grade, he may lose his paid internship, and to top it all off, his mother called about his cat, Sir Holmes of Baker Street, getting hit by a car last week and in need of an amputation and Arthur's comfort through the pain and recovery.

It's been a horrible month, a very horrible month, and even though Arthur knows that he's been through worse, and that other people have lived through worse every day, he still finds himself needing comfort from the one he loves. But he can't get it. 

Pushing his hand out from underneath the blanket, Arthur held up the iPhone and tapped the screen with his thumb. Right on the lock screen was the beautiful face of his lover, Alfred. Even though the photo itself was ridiculous- it was of Alfred's birthday party where one of his brothers pushed his entire face into the cake, leaving a messy mask of oddly-green frosting and bits of chocolate cake- it still left a bittersweet ache in Arthur's heart. Behind that plaster of green frosting was a wide grin as bright as the sun itself. Just through the picture, Arthur can feel a fraction of that warmth radiating from Alfred, a sort of loving warmth that the blanket cannot provide even if it felt nice. He needed that. He needed him. He wanted those tanned arms to hold him and that handsome face to smile down at him. He wanted that charismatic voice that is always full of laughter to say to him, “It's okay, Artie, you're going to be okay.” 

But he couldn't. Alfred has been so busy these past months with his own schooling and job and sports that he couldn't even spend ten minutes on the phone or on Skype without being pulled away to complete another task (but he tries, damn, does he try a lot), and Arthur was pretty sure that he can't drop his busy schedule to take a 1,200-plus flight out to his cry baby of a boyfriend.

A couple of tear drops fell on Arthur's phone screen. Sniffing and dabbing his eyes with his blanket, Arthur chuckled softly at the situation he was in. It was amazing; he traveled all the way across the ocean to a new country for university, and now that he was in the same country as his boyfriend, he still couldn't see him, especially since plane tickets and gas were so damn expensive. Wiping his phone on the duvet, Arthur slid his hand back inside the blanket. He glanced over at the laptop he left open on his desk and the textbooks and notebooks stacked next to it. 

I should get started on that next essay, Arthur thought even as his body started leaning back towards the pile of pillows. With his head now on the pillows, he curled up and buried his face in the duvet. He didn't want to do his homework, especially if it's not going to help his grade much. He didn't want to make tea or read anymore or do anything. He just wanted to lie in bed and sulk in the quiet of his apartment and pretend that he can hear Alfred's laughter and words of support and pretend that the heat trapped in the blanket was Alfred's body temperature. 

He just wants Alfred.

“Artie! Hey Artie!”

Arthur hummed in content; it sounded so real-

“Artie? Yo, Artie, wake up!”

Arthur cracked his eyes open, and he shot up in alert. 

His laptop came to life, and on the screen was the most beautiful, sunny grin he ever saw. Shifting his body into a sitting position, Arthur stood up and crossed the small space to his desk. “Alfred, love, hello!” Arthur greeted him. Alfred frown at the crack in Arthur's voice, and Arthur cleared his throat to make it sound stronger. “What made you call?”

“Nothing, really.” Alfred shrugged. “I finally got some free time again and the computer all to myself, and I heard that you were having a pretty sucky time over there.” Alfred smiled sympathetically. “I'm sorry, babe.”

“Aw, it's alright, nothing I cannot handle,” Arthur returned the grin, although his was too small and weak to be as tough as he tried to pretend to feel. 

Alfred nodded as he listened, but his pursed lips and crossed arms showed that he was not buying it; of course he wouldn't buy it, Arthur's fighting hard to hold back the newer tears as they spoke. “Well, that's good, I guess, I always did take you for a tough cookie, even if you're as scrawny as a twig.”

“Hey, I'm not that thin!” Arthur pouted. “Just because I don't stuff my face with hamburgers and cake doesn't mean I'm 'skinny as a twig' you little cow!” He and Alfred then burst into giggles.

“Ha ha, aaaah, man. Oh! Wait, Arthur, dude, I got a surprise for ya!”

Arthur raised his eyebrow at the word surprise, and his curiosity only grew as Alfred picked up a guitar and pulled the sling over his shoulder. “You got a new guitar?” he asked as Alfred plucked the pick against the strings.

“Naw, it's still my old one,” Alfred replied. He tuned it and plucked. “But I did learn to play a new song and I wanna sing it for you!”

“Great! Let me just find my ear plugs-”

“Artie!”

“I'm kidding, I'm kidding, Alfred!” Arthur laughed. He moved in his seat to get comfortable and said, “Okay, let me hear it.”

With his smile widening, Alfred strummed the guitar. Both of their rooms filled with the gentle, sweet melody. Taking a breath, Alfred sang softly.

“Hey there Artie, what's it like in New York City? I'm a thousand miles away but man, tonight you look so pretty, yes you do. Times Square can't shine as bright as you, I swear it's true! Hey there Artie, don't you worry about the distance. I'm right there if you get lonely, give this song another listen. Close your eyes. Listen to my voice, it's my disguise. I'm by your side.”

Arthur gaped in awe. His heart fluttered at the familiar lyrics and the voice, that wonderfully charming voice. Even though Alfred's singing wasn't magnificent, and Arthur has heard his voice being this soft before, it still swept him up with adoration whenever he hears Alfred like this.

“Oh it's what you do to me! Oh it's what you do to me! Oh it's what you do to me! Oh it's what you do to me, what you do to me... Hey there, Artie, I know times are getting hard, but just believe me, boy, someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar. We'll have it good. We'll have the life we knew we would. My word is good.

“Hey there, Artie, I've got so much left to say. If every simple song I wrote to you would take your breath away, I'd write it all. Even more in love with me you'd fall. We'd have it all! Oh it's what you do to me! Oh it's what you do to me! Oh it's what you do to me! Oh it's what you do to me!”

Arthur sat back in his desk chair, listening as Alfred sang to him sweet promises of their future and alternating a few words in the song to suit him. With tears trickling down his cheeks, Arthur stared into his lover's face, but he was seeing the future. He and Alfred will graduate college (albeit Alfred will get his degree a little later since he's younger) and Arthur will be able to get a career close to where Alfred is living so that being together won't be a problem; they may even be able to travel everywhere together. And this song, this song he'll be able to hear Alfred sing again and again. Arthur just needs to try harder just as Alfred is and get through the bad month.

Alfred strummed the last chord and looked up at the screen. “Heh, so what do you- oh, Arthur, are you okay?!”

Arthur opened his mouth to answer, but the only thing to come out was weak sobbing. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I'm fine, Al, I'm fine!” he choked out. And he was. He was sitting alone in his room blubbering like a big baby with snot probably coming out of his nose, and he was fine. 

“Oh, Artie,” Alfred's bottom lip started to quiver and his eyes became wet as he reaches towards the screen as if he can cross hundreds of miles through the internet and cup Arthur's cheek. “Artie, man, I'm sorry I can't be there.”

“It's fine, Al,” Arthur sniffled. He reached out to touch the screen as well. “Please don't cry, love.”

“I can't when I see you cry, and you know that.”

“Awwww, that's so sweet!”

Alfred and Arthur jumped from the new voice cooing at them. Alfred looked over his shoulder, moving so that Arthur was able to see Matthew standing in the doorway. “Dude, what the hell! Were you listening this whole time?!”

“Yeah, and man, that was the sweetest thing ever!” Matthew wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “You two love birds got me right here!” He patted his heart.

“Matt, geddafuck out already!”

“Can't, I have to tell you that coach called; we have to get going in fifteen.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Alfred asked incredulously, his face falling just as much as Arthur's heart. “But I thought he let the team have a day off!”

“Yeah, but apparently he had the schedule wrong; our game is tonight and we have to play in order to get to the championship tournament. Sorry.”

“But-” Alfred looked helplessly back at Arthur, but raised a confused eyebrow at Arthur's smile.

“It's okay, Alfred,” he assured his lover. “The game sounds really important, and I don't want you wasting that hard work for nothing. I'm just glad you did this for me. The singing was wonderful.”

Alfred sighed and bit his lip. “...Okay, Artie. And thanks.”

“Don't worry, Artie, Al will be back in no time, and you two can get to smooching each other over the web!”

“Matt, get out!” Alfred picked up a pillow and threw it at his brother.

“Alfred and Arthur sitting in a tree,” Matthew sang as he dodged the pillow. “Bye, Arthur!”

“Goodbye, Matthew!” Arthur and Alfred gazed at each other. “Knock them dead, Alfred.”

“Thanks, I will. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Arthur watched as Alfred looked down at his keyboard to shut off his computer. Seconds later, his screen was black, and the room filled with nothing but the pattering of rain again. Arthur placed his hand on the touchpad and moved his cursor to shut off the laptop. But the cursor lingered on the power icon as he thought. Changing his mind, Arthur clicked on Word and opened his notebook, using the song and the positive energy Alfred unknowingly gave him to keep going.


End file.
